


The Guidelines of Hunger

by HandsomeManExpress (DangerousCommieSubversive)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Other, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5220191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/HandsomeManExpress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler is always, always hungry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Guidelines of Hunger

Jeannette Bries only knew Tyler’s father for one night, and she never learned his name.

This was unusual for her, despite what people might have said; normally she liked a slow, sensuous build, she liked being chased, she liked the process of building a comfort with one person and devoting herself to them until they were exhausted and she was bored of them. She didn’t have hookups, she had _lovers._ Or. Well. _They_ loved _her._ She never loved them, not the way they wanted her to. She _liked_ them, sure, and she liked being _romanced,_ but she didn’t reciprocate. She would smile when they told her how she made them feel, coo and preen and flutter her eyelashes, but she never felt what they were feeling.

But Tyler’s father—he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, and she’d wanted him, and she’d had him, and then she’d never seen him again, and that was fine with her. The little surprise a month and a half later was like a delayed souvenir of her little night of passion (and of course her husband at the time had been _thrilled_ to have a child).

When he was born he looked just like his father, but he had her eyes.

He was perfect.

At first she worried that her lifestyle wouldn't be good for him. The frequent travel, the changes of human scenery...what if jetsetting like this wasn't good for her baby?

Not a problem. Never should have worried.

He had his first bite of sushi in one of the finest restaurants in Tokyo. He delighted millionaires in Athens and charmed socialites in Milan. He pouted for a week in Copenhagen, but that was because he had an ear infection, and he _still_ looked perfect.

And she got him his first modeling job when he was seven. She didn't even have to pull strings, except inasmuch as she brought him along when she had lunch with the photographer, which didn't really count as pulling strings because he went everywhere with her anyway.

“He'd be perfect campaign,” Marcel said to her. “How would you like to be famous, Tyler?”

Tyler had looked up from his cup of bouillon and said, “I thought I _was_ famous.”

“ _That's_ the spirit.”

* * *

 

“I'm so proud of you,” Jeannette said later, as he showed her his first paycheck. “So proud of my little boy.”

Tyler's forehead wrinkled. “I'm not a little boy.”

“My _big_ boy?”

“I'm not a _boy._ ”

She nodded slowly. “Then what _are_ you?”

He thought about it for a moment and then said, firmly, “I'm a model.”

She kissed his cheek. “You are. You're my little prince.”

“And I'm _hungry._ ”

They ordered lunch to be delivered and watched _Gigi,_ and while they sang along with the songs and mocked the stupid young lovers for choosing stability over adventure he told her about _hunger._ And then she knew that he was _really_ her child.

* * *

 

He didn’t start bringing anyone _home_ until he was fourteen, which was fine with Jeannette. She didn’t want her little prince to grow up too quickly—and in any case, Tyler was normally too busy with photo shoots and homework from his tutors to bother with the petty disturbances of _romance_ (or at the very least sex). _And_ it gave them plenty of time to talk about the little eating void inside them both where others would have the impulses that said “male” and “female,” and about _hunger._

“You need to watch how you do things,” she said to him when he was nine. “Some of them will _know_ if you go fast. You can’t have them too quickly, you have to make it slow. Savor it.”

“But I’m _hungry,_ ” he said, pouting.

“And you’ll eat plenty, my pretty prince.” She kissed him on the forehead. “ _Everyone_ will want you. Remember when we were in San Sebastian? When I was with Fidelio? ‘A little bit, often.’ It’s much nicer like that.”

So when he _did_ bring home his first date, and she left the penthouse in the evening already looking stretched and eaten, Jeannette sat her son down and said, “Darling, you need to control yourself.”

He scowled. “I was _hungry._ ”

“I get hungry too, darling.” She kissed his forehead. “But that doesn't mean I don't have guidelines.”

* * *

 

And when he was seventeen she found herself sighing and saying, “Oh, _Tyler._ A professional _wrestler?_ ”

“I _like_ wrestling, Mother.” He wouldn't even look up from combing his hair. “It's fun. And I get to meet a lot of interesting people.”

“You get to meet a lot of interesting people as a model, too! Why don't you just find a nice man and make him buy you a mansion? That's what I was doing when _I_ was your age.”

He handed her his phone. “Wrestlers taste better.”

She flipped through them, and her lips pursed, and her eyes narrowed with interest. “ _Oh._ I _see._ ”

* * *

 

Of _course,_ they still talked regularly. She told him about her latest slow conquest—although she didn't tell Tyler his _name,_ that would clue him _in._ And he told her about his _coworkers._ About how Adrian Neville, the fearless flyer, wanted nothing more than to be on his knees looking up at someone who could rule him. About how Sami Zayn was a ball of desperation who needed to be _needed_ and who only seemed innocent until you had him alone. (About Bayley, not an option for dinner but finally a chance for her little prince to have a _friend,_ Jeannette _adored_ Bayley.) About Charlotte Flair, who almost broke one of Tyler's _ribs_ the one time they slept together and then shoved him out of bed and told him not to come back and left him sulking for a week.

It was too tempting not to do a bit of sampling herself.

“Oh my god, _Mother,_ ” Tyler said over the phone one night. “ _Please_ tell me you didn't actually send _Adrian Neville_ a picture of yourself.”

“Actually, darling, I sent him several.” She stretched luxuriously. “He's _delicious._ ”

“He's _mine._ ”

“You can't have them _all_ to yourself, Tyler, are you going to leave your poor old mother with nothing?”

“Mother, you _have_ someone right now.”

“But sometimes he _bores_ me, darling. I can't eat the same thing _every_ day.”

* * *

 

Several months later, she called him and started off the conversation with, “You're sleeping with that Owens creature just to give me a headache, aren't you, darling. It's revenge because I married Hulk without telling you.”

“I'm still not going to call him Dad.”

“I've talked to him about that, Tyler, he's very attached to the idea. I _do_ expect you to send me a picture of your next consort when you've decided to get some better taste. What about that very tall one with the unfortunate taste in clothing, that Corbin boy? He seems like he's got a lot of energy, you could make a meal of him for _months._ ”

His disgust is palpable over the phone line. “He _tastes_ good, but he wouldn't know fashion if it kicked him in the chin.”

“Could you actually _reach_ his chin with a kick?”

“Mother.”

“Your friend Sasha?”

_“Mother.”_

“Then maybe that lovely man with the mustache?”

“I've _tried_ him. Simon doesn't even _want_ to have sex. It's driving Aiden _crazy._ ”

She paused. “...what about the Japanese man, with the good legs? Hideo Itami? Surely _he's_ up to your standards, he's _delightful._ ”

There was a long moment, and then Tyler said, “He's...impressive.”

“Then eat him, darling.” She wriggled back against the pillows and thought about hunger. “Eat him up.”


End file.
